31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

C ain saw the rogue wolves as they reached the end of the road.

The warrior had been right; it wasn't just their scent that was wrong. They had shifted into their wolves and were running in formation. Rogues were never that organised. Once wolves left their pack for whatever reason, they usually died within a month if they didn't find another pack to join. If they happened to come across a rogue pack, they lived longer, but they had no rules or structure. They stuck together out of necessity, but when they went on a hunt, it was each wolf for themselves.

These wolves had their heads lowered, teeth bared, and their ears back as they ran down the streets, one at the front, two in the middle and three at the back. This was a fighting formation. They weren't hunting for food scraps; they had already run past several houses and not raided anything.

And not only that, they were out in broad daylight. Anyone could smell a rogue a mile away, day or night, but they preferred to hunt under the cover of darkness.

The rogues turned in his direction, confirming that they were on their way to the packhouse. To him or Layla.

Cain's paws hit the tarmac as he ran towards the wolves. They didn't slow down, and like the first wolf, he sensed no fear in them. Anyone who had ever heard of him knew what he was capable of. His dark grey fur and red eyes were usually the harbingers of death. His teeth and claws could end a life in seconds. His beast was huge, he towered over everyone, but these rogues barely reached his flank. They might as well have been pups.

‘Keep away,' he ordered the warriors already surrounding them. ‘It's dark magic. Protect the pack.'

Cain had gone up against more enemies than that before, but there was no telling what the magic had made them capable of. He caught the first wolf by the neck, clamping down hard and pulling before he threw the body aside. The other wolves didn't falter. They kept running, kept focused.

Since he was right behind them, that meant it was Layla they wanted. His mate. They wanted to kill his mate.

A cold rage he had never felt before filled his body as he attacked another wolf. He clamped down, he clawed, he ripped. The wolves didn't whimper or yelp; they didn't try to fight back. He knew the rogues were nothing but shells, so he directed all his anger to whoever controlled them. Limbs flew. Blood sprayed. Cain revelled in the bloodshed even as it fuelled his anger.

Why had they breached his territory if they weren't fighting back? What was the point? It was probably the quickest and easiest battle he had ever fought and the least satisfactory.

As he reached the last wolf, it finally reacted. It whimpered and evaded his bite as if the dark magic had released him. It turned around and shifted almost as fast as a wolf with Alpha blood.

The wolf was about the same age as him in his human form. He was a redhead and as dishevelled as all rogues tended to be. It was a little uncanny how his shade of red hair was almost the same as Layla's. Was it a coincidence? He'd been through enough battles with witches to know that there was no such thing when it came to witches.

He growled and lowered his head, ready to end him. Wolves couldn't chant to hex anyone, but humans could. Maybe that was what they had been waiting for—a chance to shift and curse him.

"Please," the man said, falling to his knees in the middle of the road. "Don't kill me. We meant no harm."

Then why had they not come in the right way? He wouldn't fall for that, even though the man looked scared and apologetic as he begged. Just like the first prisoner, this man's eyes were dead. He was being controlled and just repeating whatever he was being told to. He looked scared, but he didn't feel it. There was nothing in the air, just a dead space as if the man wasn't even real. He was faking his emotions, putting on a show.

A light glinted in the man's eyes before he spoke again.

"We just want our girl back," he continued. "She's family; she should be with us. She's not safe here with you."

He heard some gasps and realised that some pack members had come out of their houses to watch. And this man had just loudly declared that Layla was a rogue.

He felt the chill down to his bones. A rogue in the Alpha's bed was something that would never be accepted. It was the same as admitting Layla was a half-blood.

The redhead in front of him smirked briefly, confirming his suspicions.

"And I have a present for you," he continued in a lower voice, the same way the first prisoner had done before he had started chanting.

Before the redhead's lips moved again, he launched forward and clamped his jaws around his neck.

And when the magic had died, he looked back at the destruction he had caused. They had all appeared peaceful; they hadn't fought back. Anyone looking at this picture would assume the redhead had been telling the truth.

Fuck.

Was that the plan? To make sure his pack never accepted Layla? To put a target on her back? Layla's scent was clearly human, so would they start to speculate? How long until they figured out what she really was?

He looked around at the pack members who had come out of their houses and at the warriors who had been his backup, and he could see that seed had been planted.

‘Clean this up,' he growled in the mind link before heading back to the packhouse.

This messed up everything.

He shifted before he approached the packhouse, and from the looks he received from the wolves who were back in the training field, he knew the news had already travelled. He ignored all of them as he picked up his sweats from the doorway where he had left them and put them on.

Diedre was waiting outside his room, and from the strong scent of magic in the air, he suspected she had just done a protective spell.

"What happened?" Diedre whispered.

"I need your help. I think you're the only one I can trust to protect her," he answered.

Diedre held his gaze and then nodded with a smile. He knew what this meant. He had just admitted to the woman that Layla was his mate, something he had not wanted to do at all. Now Diedre would be full of hope that she could find a way to break his curse.

"I'll find you later. I need to shower."

He looked down at the blood splattered all over his body and then listened in on Layla to make sure she was still sleeping. Her breathing was deep and even. Maybe moving her into his room had been a bad idea. He would always have to ensure she didn't see him like this.

He nodded at Diedre before he let himself in quietly and headed to the shower. As he watched the blood flow down the drain, something hit him.

The redhead hadn't referred to Layla by name, but what if they knew what Layla was? What if they knew her?